Deciphering Jack-speak
by SamanthaKathy
Summary: Daniel speaks 23 languages, except 'Jack'. Much miscommunication ensues. Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill.


**Author's note: originally published 18 August 2011 on AO3. Posted for a prompt on the LJ Comment_Fic community. The prompt: Stargate SG-1, Daniel, he speaks 23 languages except 'Jack.'**

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Daniel speaks 23 languages, so he thinks it's fair to say he has a knack for languages. He had learned his first language, beside English that is, before he was five years old. His last language was learned just three months ago, on a planet where he spent a week together with the rest of the team. Nobody was even surprised anymore that he managed to learn a new language well enough to communicate about basic things within a week. Considering all that, you would think he could manage to learn a language after five years of hearing it almost daily. However, it seemed that he had finally found a language that eluded him, no matter how hard he tried.

"Come by sometime after six," Jack had said.

Daniel had finished his translation around eight and had arrived half an hour later at Jack's house. Jack had been sullen all evening. Daniel had assumed something had happened in the time between five, when Jack had left the mountain, and now. But when he asked about it, Jack had just grumbled something. Daniel had let it rest. It wasn't until he went to get himself another drink that he discovered the remains of what looked like a nice steak dinner for two. Apparently, Jack had invited him to dinner. Of course, he had done it in Jack-speak, which Daniel still couldn't quite decipher.

The week after that, Jack had once again invited him to dinner. This time, Daniel knew what the invitation sounded in Jack-speak, so he had made sure he to be on time. The steak was perfect, the company great, the dessert to die for. After dessert, they had settled in front of the tv to watch a movie.

"So, guess it's time for you to go home," Jack had said after the movie.

Daniel had agreed, since it was getting late. However, when he had looked in his rearview mirror when he was driving away, he had seen Jack leaning against the doorpost, looking despondently and sad. Daniel had puzzled over that expression for two days until it dawned on him that he had, once again, incorrectly interpreted Jack-speak.

But this time, this time Daniel was determined he would get it right. Another week, another dinner invitation, another great night. But this time when Jack started talking about Daniel going home, Daniel made sure to talk about maybe not driving with the amount of beer he had had. He had only drunk one beer the entire evening, which Jack knew perfectly well, but Jack seemed happy he was staying. Grinning, Daniel settled more comfortably on the couch, sure that this time, all Jack-speak had been interpreted correctly. It seemed he was finally getting the hang of one of the most difficult languages he had ever encountered. He closed his eyes in exhilaration, enjoying the rush he always felt when something clicked. Seconds later, he was startled out of patting himself on the back by soft, warm, chapped lips on his own lips. His eyes flew open and he let out a surprised squeak.

"Jack?" he asked, very unsure what had just happened. "What?"

"You're an idiot, you know that," Jack said.

Daniel knew, he just knew, that that was Jack-speak for something. In fact, he'd bet his life that it was the answer to something very, very important. But he was at a loss as to what, exactly, it meant. And he had to know what it meant before he could put his heart on the line. There was no room for error this time.

"Jack, English, please," Daniel pleaded.

Jack's eyes glinted with amusement, but he leaned in and brought his mouth close to Daniel's ear. Jack's hot breath tickled and sent shivers down Daniel's spine.

"I love you," Jack said, pronouncing each word very precise.

Daniel heart soared. That was English, a language he understood, spoke perfectly, no room for error. He softly kissed Jack back and whispered his own declaration of love. They ended up in Jack's bed, Daniel's back to Jack's chest, Jack's strong arms wrapped around him, cocooning him.

"Night, Spacemonkey," Jack said before drifting off to sleep.

Daniel knew that Jack had once again reverted to Jack-speak. He also knew that he was nowhere near understanding Jack-speak, the congratulations he had given himself earlier on the evening far too soon. But that was all right with Daniel, for he now knew he had a lifetime to decipher it.


End file.
